


No Road Map

by bitochondria



Series: The Stars Are Different Out Here [2]
Category: due South
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bathing/Washing, Cold Weather, Developing Relationship, First Time, Fraser doesn't know how to flirt, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Third Person Limited, Post-Call of the Wild, Ray is a human popsicle, but they figure it out eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitochondria/pseuds/bitochondria
Summary: Picks up directly afterConstellation Points, but with a distinctly different age rating. (Reading Constellation Points first isn't required, but it makes the opening a bit less abrupt!) Fraser and Ray K. have embarked upon their northern adventure, but Ray is starting to wonder if maybe he's been misinterpreting Fraser's signals; a stopover at a rural inn provides him with proof that he has not been. He and Fraser proceed to spend about fifteen pages trying very hard to successfully touch one another without accidentally saying something stupid or dying of embarrassment. Things get hot and heavy, and they talk through the meaning of 'partnership.'
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Series: The Stars Are Different Out Here [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682293
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	No Road Map

They talked through the rest of the evening, solidifying their plans and determining what needed to be done before they left. Fraser’s shoulder stayed pressed to Ray’s the whole time. They slept side by side on tent roll mats in the cabin, packed in with other mounties, for the next few days until they were ready to leave. Frobisher commented on the ‘strength of their bond’ one night while they were sitting side by side, laughing over something trivial. But outside of that, very little changed— they bickered and laughed and Fraser philosophized and Ray told him he was full of shit, and then they bickered and laughed some more. Occasionally they made eye contact for a little longer than necessary and got a little self-conscious about it. But at no point did Fraser pull Ray aside for a tender kiss under the northern moon. And at no point did they breach the inches of space between their bed rolls. And at no point did they say anything further about the nature of their relationship.

So by the time they set off together, into the wilderness, Ray was starting to wonder if maybe he had wildly misinterpreted their conversation. Or if maybe for Fraser, this  _ was _ romance. He was happy to spend the time with him regardless, and still felt fairly satisfied having come out on top of the other Ray, but he had kind of hoped by this point he might have gotten to cop a quick feel or  _ something _ .

On the other hand, Ray assumed there was probably some kind of mountie equivalent of Don’t-Ask-Don’t-Tell, so it probably made sense for them not to get  _ too _ cozy in front of Fraser’s superiors. They’d be spending the next week alone in the wilderness together— absolutely the plot of some junk romance he’d lifted off Frannie one day, bored out of his rock— so he figured he could exercise a little patience until things got a little more romantic. He could picture the scene in silver-salt detail: they would stop at a secluded cabin somewhere, and Fraser would come in with an armful of logs, snowflakes in his hair and on his shoulders. They’d build a fire together and Fraser would strip down to that spectacular white tank top and his suspenders. He’d offer him a sip of camp coffee— no— hot cocoa. They’d sit side by side, thighs brushing, and Fraser’s hand would find its way to— Well. Then it started to get a little R-rated. 

Except that that was not what happened at all. 

It turned out that dog sledding was actually exhausting and boring in equal parts; Ray’s knees hurt when he stood on the sled, and his ass hurt when he sat on the sled, and the terrain was largely an endless, featureless blanket of white. Furthermore, there was no secluded cabin: the first night, they stopped with the dogs in a forested embankment and set up a fire and a tent.

Ray shivered by the fire, and one of the dogs who wasn’t Diefenbaker— was this one Champlain or Bannock?— rested its face on his thigh. He was just about ready to lie down in the snow and let the cold take him. 

Fraser sat down beside him and started rubbing his back. 

He looked up at the night sky, his face lit golden by the campfire.

“What a beautiful night,” he sighed, his hand warm and steady as it traced circles through Ray’s jacket. 

Ray found tonight fairly similar to the past few nights they had spent— cold. But he looked up anyway, indulging his friend.

“Stars’re different out here,” he muttered. Without the lights of the city, there were so many  _ more  _ of them. He had never really understood the naming of the ‘milky way’ before seeing the pitch dark sky from the frozen earth, glowing white in patches, swirled with stars. 

“The air is different,” Fraser corrected, but without his usual encyclopedic tone. He nodded as he spoke. “A lot of things are different, here.”

Ray wondered if one of the things he was talking about was them. Would there be a point at which, suddenly, they were far enough from civilization that they could be as clear with each other as tundra air? 

He petted the fuzzy face resting on his leg and changed the subject, unsure of how to respond without saying something too on the nose. “How the hell am I so damn exhausted from  _ sitting _ all day?”

“Well, Ray,” Fraser began, his hand warm on his back, “It takes time to adjust to the rigors of the outdoors, particularly when the spring thaw hasn’t quite come in yet. The energy requirements of even simply staying warm are astronomical.” He gestured at Dief, who was flopped in a pile by the fire, leaning on one of the dogs. “Look at him— he’s a  _ wolf _ for god’s sake, and he’s exhausted.” He rolled his eyes. “Gone soft from city living.” 

Ray snorted. “Why haven’t  _ you _ gone soft from city living?” 

“Discipline, Ray.” 

He looked out at the woods, dark and silver with snow. 

“I feel like I’m slowing you down, Fraze.” 

“Not at all.” Fraser looked at Ray, waiting for him to return the gaze. “We have no deadlines, no one we’re beholden to. The pace is yours to set.”

Ray looked at the fire, averting his eyes almost as soon as he had made eye contact. 

He changed the subject.

“So this is the plan for the next few days?” He knew the answer already, but he couldn’t keep looking into Fraser’s eyes without saying something unbelievably dumb. “Giddy-up through the snow for the next few days, camping, eating hardtack n’ shit until we get to town?”

“Indeed. No need for a long-haul when we’re dictating our own schedule.”

“Which is to say, ‘Ray is too soft for a long haul and needs regular breaks lest he become a skinny blonde popsicle,’ right?”

“Which is to say, ‘Ray is unused to these conditions and can’t be expected to make an instantaneous adjustment.’” Arm around his shoulder, Fraser shook Ray, just slightly. A tender sort of jostle. “You weren’t privy to the long period of acclimatization I required moving to Chicago. I was already a well-adjusted urbanite by the time you met me.”

“Christ almighty, if that was you as a ‘well-adjusted urbanite…’” He shook his head, stealing a glance at Fraser’s face as he teased him. “Remind me to call Ray One and ask for a detailed play by play of ‘Fraser’s First Month in the City,’ alright?” 

“I’m frankly surprised he didn’t give you that information already.” Fraser’s eyebrows arched up and he smushed his lips together.

Goddamn he was cute. 

Ray inched closer, squeezing himself into Fraser’s personal space. Fraser reciprocated by holding him more tightly around the shoulders. 

“Still cold?” 

Ray shrugged. “I have no feeling in my ass cheeks.”

“That sounds troubling,” Fraser smiled, his mouth turning up on one side in mischief. “Do you require medical intervention?”

“Nah.” Ray shrugged into the reassuring warmth of Fraser’s arm. “I just need a hot water bottle or something, applied directly to my posterior.” 

“You could sleep flanked by the dogs.” Fraser’s eyes, husky-blue already, turned briefly wolfish. “They’re quite warm. Unless you’re really married to staying in the tent tonight.”

“Hmm. Tough choice— outside with a bunch of dogs, or in the tent with the guy who is literally the only thing between me and hypothermia right now.” He rolled his eyes. “What will I possibly choose.”

Fraser seemed to take the hint admirably, gathering Ray in closer to himself. Ray could feel him breathe in, slow and deep. 

“Are you… comfortable with sharing bed space?” 

_ Fuck yes I am _ , Ray celebrated internally. This was it! This would be the moment ‘partnership’ would start to mean something a little more  _ intimate _ .

He cleared his throat slightly. “Course. I figured we’d be all elbows on this trip, jammed in tents and hanging from crevasses.”

“Good,” Fraser nodded. “You’ll stay warmer that way, anyway.”

They nodded agreement in what Ray perceived as slightly awkward silence. They were really spectacularly bad at this, Ray mused, but it wouldn’t matter once they were cuddled up under a blanket together, nose to nose and stripped to long johns.

And so they made a surprisingly delicious stew from their provisions, sopping it up with hardtack. They fed the dogs and talked of food and of camping, childhood pets and time spent in the snow. Fraser told a quiet, contemplative story of the time he and an old friend of his— a hockey player, he explained— found a baby deer, and Ray found himself peacefully dozing against Fraser’s shoulder. At this, Fraser leaned against him slightly to get his attention. 

“Would you like to go to bed, Ray?”

At this, Ray perked back up. 

But his tender tent fantasies were for naught; they slept beneath the same blanket, but Fraser kept a chivalrous distance. Ray woke up to Fraser already outside the tent, preparing breakfast. 

The next few days shared a similar trajectory; they rode hard, cooked, and camped when they needed to. They talked a lot— more, in some ways, than Ray had expected. Fraser seemed more gregarious than usual; more willing to really  _ talk _ rather than lecture. It almost made up for the fact that he seemed completely disinterested in anything remotely licentious. They did touch, but it was exclusively chaste; by the fifth night of falling asleep an inch apart, Fraser’s mouth and eyelashes and cheekbones so close he could see the fine lines around his eyes, Ray was itching all over. Every time Fraser patted him on the back or put his arm around his shoulders, his body temperature rose and his heartbeat went wild. 

But he also understood not wanting to get busy in the wilderness, particularly considering his continued exhaustion. Who wanted their first time with another person to be in a tent, in the freezing damp, surrounded by sled dogs?

When they finally made it to town— barely an outpost, by Ray’s admittedly limited standards— he started thinking about sleeping at an inn. How they would actually be able to shower, how it would be warm and cozy, how they could cuddle up together under a pile of quilts and press their mouths together and wake up to the smell of pancakes and coffee. They could pick up supplies and take a little breather, using the downtime to assess the boundaries of their relationship.

In reality, the only ‘inn’ in town was more of a furnished shed than actual, sensible lodgings. The cast iron wood stove, serving as both fireplace and cooktop, was cold and unlit, and the room was freezing. There was plumbing, at least; an ice-cold bathroom full of spiders contained only a toilet, while an ancient bathtub with no temperature control gauge loomed beside the furnace. The only part of Ray’s fantasy that seemed to have manifested itself into this rural Canadian town was that there was only one bed, but that did very little to take the edge of the bitter cold and distress in the here and now. 

Ray stood in the doorway, shivering. Fraser moved past him, hand on his shoulder, and hung his coat up on the coat rack. He made his way over to the fireplace and examined the logs for dampness, then began to pile them inside. 

Stamping his feet to keep the feeling in them, Ray threw his hat on the ground.

“How is it that I’m colder in here than I was out there!?”

Fraser lit a match and touched it to some kindling. “It’ll be warmer soon.”

“I don’t think I’ve been warm since we left the states,” Ray whined, squeezing his arms tightly around himself. 

Fraser watched the fire flare to life, and then he stood up. 

“Take your jacket off,” he instructed, making his way over to the closet. 

“How the hell is taking my jacket  _ off _ going to make me warmer?” 

“Just take your jacket off, Ray.” Fraser pulled an old wool blanket out of the closet and shook it off, and then he threw it around his shoulders. Ray did as he was told, hanging his jacket up despite the cold, and when he turned around, Fraser enveloped him. He draped his arms around Ray’s shoulders, pulling the blanket like a curtain around their bodies, pulling their chests close. As always, Fraser was radiating heat. 

Ray’s breath and his words caught in his throat.

Fraser drew him in so the planes of their bodies adhered completely. He smiled, a little weakly, and explained, “Until the furnace gets going.”

Ray cleared his throat, his arms awkwardly pinned to his side. “Why the hell are you always so much warmer than I am? You’re like a human stove and I’m ribs in a meat freezer.” 

“It’s probably because you’re so lean, Ray,” Fraser chuckled. “But I’m happy to lend you my excess heat.”

By this point, Ray was experiencing plenty of heat. With Fraser’s arms around him, and their chests together, and their faces so close— he realized he was waiting for Fraser to kiss him. Had Fraser made the first move,  _ ever _ , with anyone he had expressed romantic attraction to? Ray kept thinking back through their time together, and he couldn’t recall a single time Fraser had kissed someone or told them he was interested. The man was too saintly— or too nervous— or too Canadian— to be the person who bridged that gap. 

Ray hoped he was reading his signals right, and decided to be brave.

He looped his thumbs in the back of Fraser’s suspenders and pressed his body to his partner’s, deepening the friction and pressure they shared. 

Looking down, he started, “Y’know…”

The heat of their bodies together and Fraser’s smell— pine and sweat and woodsmoke— propelled him further into territory there would be no returning from. He wondered if Fraser could tell he was starting to get hard.

He looked up, his eyes meeting Fraser’s. Fraser was staring at him, his lips slightly parted. He forced a grin, and with his hands hot on Fraser’s back, muttered, “ _ This _ is the kind of closeness I was talking about the other day.” His tone of voice made it a joke,  _ just _ in case he still needed an escape hatch, but his eyes made it clear this was the truth.

Fraser licked his lower lip, eyes still on Ray’s face. He swallowed.

When he spoke, his voice was scratchy and low— husky. 

“...I. I’m going to kiss you, now, Ray.”

“About time,” Ray teased, and then tilted his head slightly.

Fraser leaned in and, just barely, so softly, touched his lips to Ray’s.

He pulled away and, arms still tight around his shoulders, blinked. He watched Ray’s reaction, and apparently finding it acceptable, leaned in to kiss him again. This time he crushed his mouth to Ray’s, so forceful their teeth bonked together. Ray’s mouth fell easily open as Fraser sought him, pressing his tongue between his lips. Ray moved one hand up Fraser’s back and kissed him like he had done it every day of his life— like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to have another man’s mouth on his, hard arms around his shoulders, a growing sense of heat and firmness pressing into his thigh. 

When they finally pulled away, Fraser cleared his throat, his face surprisingly pink. He was usually so unflappable. 

“I’m sorry. That was presumptive of me, Ray.”

“Presum— pff—” Ray gave Fraser the most incredulous look he could muster considering the intimacy of their position. “Fraser, you hit your head or something?”

Fraser frowned, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I just didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?”

“I…” Fraser’s mouth moved but no sound came out. He frowned again. “I wanted to be certain things weren’t moving too quickly for you.”

The absurdity of this statement when paired with their position, nose-to-nose, arms locked tight around one another, was difficult to ignore. Ray had literally ground his dick up against Fraser before they kissed.

“Too quick for  _ me? _ ” Fraser was the one who took everything at a glacier’s pace. Ray had married a girl he met when he was  _ twelve _ .

Fraser looked vaguely apologetic. “Well, there  _ is _ a tendency towards defensiveness among men who—” 

Ray rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a guy and I’m a guy, whatever. Turns out I’m not straight, I guess. Over it.” He raised his eyebrows and gave Fraser a straight (perhaps, he realized, a misused word) stare. “Why aren’t we kissing?”

At that, Fraser broke into genuine, squinting, teeth-baring laughter. Ray watched his tongue dart out briefly to his lower lip, and then he squeezed his mouth and eyes both shut. His cheeks were round with amusement still as he centered himself.

When he found his calm, he let his eyes roam Ray’s face. “How about I draw us a bath,” he suggested, breathing in deeply. His gaze darted away, into the corners of the room, as he came up with a solid-sounding excuse. “Considering the apparent lack of hot water, it seems sensible to only have to boil and fill the bathtub once, and… it seems like a good way to get you thoroughly warmed up.” 

Ray involuntarily tensed against Fraser’s body a little bit at the possible double meaning. He couldn’t imagine a single downside to a hot bath right now, least of all a hot bath  _ with Fraser _ . 

“That sounds fantastic.” Ray squinted one eye. “Wait. You don’t like, bathe in your long johns or anything, do you?”

“That would be an immense hypothermia risk, Ray.” He suddenly squeezed Ray much tighter, brushing their cheeks together. He murmured, very close to his ear, “Can you stay warm without me for a moment?”

“Fraser, I could power a train right now I’m so hot,” Ray laughed.

“Excellent,” Fraser nodded, and then flipped the blanket off his shoulders, wrapping it around Ray. 

Ray knocked his boots off and sat on the edge of the bed, huddling under the blanket. The moment Fraser pulled away, most of his heat dissipated. He tucked his feet beneath him and sandwiched the corners of the blanket under his body, reducing any possible places and more insulation might escape from. 

There were two large metal buckets beside the bathtub; Fraser brought the first one to the bath faucet, filled at less than a tenth of the way, and then swished the water around and dumped it out. Probably rinsing for spiders. 

As he was doing this, he cleared his throat, and pronounced, “...so.”

_ Oh. _

The bath, Ray realized belatedly, was a ruse. The allure of wet, naked Fraser had blinded him to Fraser’s actual intentions, which were to  _ talk _ . The time the water would take to boil would give them ample time to discuss the parameters of whatever this was about to be.  _ Would it be rude, _ Ray wondered,  _ to suggest sex first, talking later? _

“My father said to me recently—”

“...recently?”

“Semi-recently,” Fraser corrected, his facial expression sort of weird and squirrely. “That a partnership was like a marriage.” 

Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “Fraze, I’m not going to pretend you don’t make me six different kinds of fruitcakey, but I’m not sure I’m ready for marriage talk.” 

Fraser filled the bucket, shaking his head slightly. “That’s hardly an issue considering we would be committing a crime in attempting matrimony, Ray.” He set the first bucket on top of the stove. “My intention is merely to draw attention to the shared necessity of…” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Clear and open communication, both between partners and spouses.” 

“That’s fair,” Ray agreed, against his self-interests. 

“Over the past year, you and I have become… better communicators. But,” he paused, rinsing the second bucket. “I don’t know that we’ve had any success broaching the topic of our apparent shared attraction anything but obliquely.”

If he let Fraser control this entire conversation, they would be talking for the next six hours as he cautiously circled the fact that they now both knew they wanted to fuck. He didn’t want to have to verbalize any of this, but he wanted even less to beat around the bush until they were both too awkward to touch each other.

“So let’s talk about it…” He searched for the antonym to obliquely. “Acutely, then.” 

Fraser turned the water back on to fill the second bucket, glancing just briefly at Ray. He was  _ really _ nervous. 

“I like you. A lot.” He shrugged from beneath the blanket. “I’m actually pretty damn hung up on you.” He continued, Fraser looking at him over his shoulder with his mouth slightly open. “I’ve  _ been _ hung up on you for a while. Even back when you weren’t so thrilled with me, to be honest. I didn’t say anything for a long time because I…” He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “I dunno. I didn’t really realize how I felt, for a while, and then when I did it was like… you’re outta my league, y’know?” He blew air between his half-closed lips, making a noise of frustration and exhaustion. “The only reason I’m saying anything now is because I kinda sorta gathered that this whole thing might be an excuse for you and me to get a little romantically isolated, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged again, feeling like at any moment Fraser was going to interrupt and tell him he was wildly off-base and that what they had just shared was some kind of traditional Canadian Friendship Kiss, or something. “If you’re worried that I haven’t thought things through, let me be clear in saying that you are…” He took a deep breath in and spat the rest out in one long rambling monologue, “Probably the most important person in the world to me right now, and I’m willing to follow you anywhere so long as you feel the same way about me. And if you’re worried that I’m going to get hung up on the whole  _ gay thing _ , let me get real graphic for a second and say that when I jack off, I pretty much exclusively picture you.”

Water flowed over the edge of the bucket and spilled down Fraser’s fingers, down the sides and back into the tub. Startled back into reality by the cold, he pulled the buckett out from under the tap, leaned it on the side of the tub, splashing water onto the floor, and turned the faucet off.

Looking everywhere but at Ray, mouth still half-open, Fraser visually grasped for words as he put the bucket on the stove. “Ray, I… well. Uh. That does. Seem to cover it.” He turned, practically a snap to attention, to Ray, his posture ramrod straight. “You’re right. That it… took me longer to appreciate your friendship than it probably ought to have. I’m not… really all that good with romantic…” 

“Anything?”

Fraser nodded, seemingly relieved. “Anything. I’m not particularly good at recognizing other people’s romantic intentions toward me, and more problematically, I seem to have a bit of difficulty determining my own feelings when I have a possible romantic entanglement with someone I consider a friend.” He stepped forward, hesitantly. “I imagine, based on experience, that many people don’t find that to be as…  _ permeable _ a line as I’ve come to learn I do.”

This was hardly news— Ray had seen the way Fraser behaved around Thatcher and Frannie, and he had experienced his own heavy taste of it the past few days. Friendliness came easy to Fraser, but  _ friendship _ really didn’t. Romance didn’t come easy, either. Feelings were tricky for him— so the idea that he might have a softer boundary between the different kinds of feelings than many people made a lot of sense. 

Fraser walked closer to the bed, and then sat down beside Ray.

“But… I care very deeply about you, Ray. More deeply than I feel capable of expressing in words. Your friendship has caused me to… rethink many of my choices, and re-examine my priorities. I’m a better version of myself with you. And I’ve…” He clasped his hands in front of him on his lap. “I’ve grown to entertain the idea that the affection between us might be sufficient to…” 

Ray reached out of his blanket hideaway and offered his hand, palm upturned, to Fraser. Fraser, better in this particular realm with actions rather than words, laced his fingers through Ray’s.

“Fuck each other silly?” Ray offered, eyebrows raised.

Fraser blinked rapidly, biting the inside of his lip and stifling a laugh. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘date,’ but yes, I suspect—” He smiled on the left, closing his eyes for a second. “I  _ hope _ that would be an aspect of our relationship.” He squeezed Ray’s fingers between his own. 

That Fraser had just admitted he was actively interested in having sex shorted out every part of Ray’s brain but the parts in control of libido and unbelievable soppiness. He wasn’t a consolation prize. Fraser  _ wanted  _ him. He  _ cared _ about him. 

He leaned his head on Fraser’s shoulder. “So d’you have any experience in this area, or is this going to be a blind leading the blind sort of situation?”

“Experience in drawing a bath?”

Ray clamped his mouth shut and glared at Fraser. “You’re definitely pulling my leg, but I guess just in case you aren’t,  _ no _ , of course not, I’m talking about experience having sex with men.”

Fraser nodded, neither ashamed nor boastful. 

“Like… how much?”

“That’s rather a personal question…”

“I’m not asking you to give me the home addresses of everyone you’ve ever gotten naked with, Fraze, I’m just wondering if we should be looking for a manual or something.”

“Well… my earliest sexual experiences were with other boys.” He paused for a second. “I told you a few days ago, a story about my friend Mark—although, you were starting to fall asleep—”

“Hockey guy?”

“Yes. He and I…” 

“Fooled around?”

Fraser leaned the top of his head against Ray’s. “It was a bit more serious than that, but yes.”

“What about recently? Like, as an adult man, do you still…” 

“Not often. Occasionally.” Fraser rubbed the side of Ray’s thumb with his own. “But I don’t have sex with women all that often, either.” 

He hazarded a question he wasn’t sure Fraser would answer. “Did you and Vecchio ever…” 

“No, Ray.” His answer was sudden, and final, and a little bit sad.

Ray wet his lips. “But you wanted to.”

Fraser picked his head up and looked him in the eye. 

Ray shrugged. “Hey,  _ you _ said you thought we could use some clear and honest communication. You had a thing for Vecchio?” 

Breathing slowly out through his nose, Fraser nodded. “I did.”

Ray’s stomach twisted, but honesty was better than games. 

Fraser’s hand grew very still against Ray’s. “Is… that a problem?” 

“No,” Ray lied. “Yeah. I don’t know.” He adjusted his feet beneath him. “I guess I’m a little jealous, but I’m also glad to hear it right from you.” He looked down to where his and Fraser’s fingers were intertwined. “Doesn’t make me like you any less.” 

Fraser pulled their hands, together, up to his mouth, kissing first Ray’s knuckles and then the back of his wrist. Static, a rush of tingling hotness, swirled over Ray’s body. “I’m quite relieved to hear that,” he responded, quiet and a little raspy. 

Ray grinned, tilting his chin down and angling his head towards Fraser. He looked at him from the corners of his eyes, beneath his eyelashes. “Y’know, I’m kind of getting off on how damn  _ shy _ all this romance stuff seems to be making you.” 

The grip Fraser had on Ray’s hand tightened ever-so-slightly. He licked his lower lip, his top two front teeth exposed. “That sounds a little sadistic, Ray.” The left corner of his mouth hitched up in a searing smirk as his eyebrows lowered in false contrition. 

Ray’s heart rate began to rise.

With what felt like practiced grace, Fraser used their shared point of contact as a pinion, spinning Ray’s arm up behind his head and pushing him to the surface of the bed. Wrapped in the blanket, lacking the use of his other arm or legs, Ray tumbled easily.

Heat surged through his body and his breathing grew shallow. Fraser sat beside him on the bed, pinning him with just his arm strength, his face hovering inches above Ray’s face.

With an expression Ray recognized— that he had thought he had maybe imagined once or twice before— Fraser leaned into him. He spoke softly, as if he wasn’t doing something  _ mind-blowingly sexy _ , and continued, “ _ Wanting _ me to feel all at sea. I can’t say how much longer any reticence is likely to continue on my part, if you’re going to tease me about it.” He kissed the corner of Ray’s mouth, barely a peck.

“Jesus, Fraze,” Ray breathed, his body taut and arching towards Fraser. Shy was cute, but this was  _ blistering. _

Fraser leaned in deeply, brushing his lips against Ray’s ear. Ray tensed with anticipation, ready to try anything and everything with this man. Fraser’s breath was hot on his neck, and his hands were pressing him down into the duvet, and he  _ still _ had on those goddamn suspenders and that goddamn white tank top. Ray bit down hard against the inside of his cheek, waiting impatiently for whatever came next.

He whispered, lips ghosting against Ray’s skin, “Water’s boiling.”

And then he got up. 

And left Ray crumpled on the bed.

With ancient macrame pot holders, Fraser lifted up each pot of water and dumped them into the bathtub. Ray watched as if transfixed, frozen, his whole body as stiff as his dick. Fraser turned the tap back on and, after waiting and watching for a moment, submerged the tips of his fingers in the water. He did this off and on for the next minute or so, then turned the tap off and glanced at Ray.

“Shall we?”

Ray snapped up from the bed. “Fuck yes,” he grinned, tossing the blanket off on the bed and dashing over the the bath. He knew he looked like an idiot, but he also suspected Fraser wasn’t going to judge him for being a little overenthusiastic. 

He practically skidded to a stop, and Fraser grabbed him around the waist. He kissed him just below his earlobe, very gently, and then proceeded to unbutton the front of his pants.

“You really go zero to sixty, don’t you,” Ray noted, pulling Fraser’s suspenders down over his shoulders. Fraser’s mouth remained hot on his neck, his tongue pressing into his skin, as he unbuttoned Ray’s shirt. 

He pulled away, licking his lips. “Well, you’ve expressed a clear and persistent enough level of desire that I feel I can be honest about my  _ own _ feelings.”

“What are your own feelings?” Ray grumbled, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it anyway. He ran his hands down Fraser’s chest, landing with the pad of his thumb on his pants button.

“I want to make love to you, Ray.” He untucked his undershirt and his hand made its way beneath the fabric to Ray’s bare stomach. “Tonight and every night.”

Alarm bells pealed in Ray’s brain.  _ That’s a line for a woman _ , he flinched, suddenly panicky. He had come to terms with the idea that he desired Fraser, but he hadn’t fully thought through what it meant for Fraser to desire him— for him to be in the position of  _ object of desire _ . And on top of that— it was such a fucking  _ cheesy  _ line that if he had ever said it to a woman, he’d have been made a laughing stock. 

But just as quickly as the alarms began, they subsided when he saw Fraser’s expression. Only he could say something like that and mean it completely sincerely. It wasn’t a  _ line _ at all with him— it was absolute naked scripture. 

He unbuttoned Fraser’s pants and kissed his neck. 

They stripped each other down to their underwear, Ray’s shirt going up over his head, Fraser stepping out of his pants down around his ankles. Fraser was wearing a pair of briefs that, despite their perfect cleanliness and lack of wear and tear, looked an awful lot like they had sprung from the pages of a 1960’s Sears catalogue. Somehow, he still looked ridiculously handsome. 

Ray’s hands hovered around the high-waisted elastic band, Fraser’s hands resting softly on his hips. He brushed one finger along the warm, taut skin of Fraser’s belly, and then hooked it into the front of his underwear. He pulled down very slightly, looking Fraser in the eye.

Fraser’s thumbs made their way to the waistband of Ray’s shorts and, in an uncoordinated but excited effort, they denuded one another. Ray could not quite manage to look anywhere but directly at Fraser’s crotch; like the rest of him, it was upright, beautiful, and just a bit larger-than-life. Without thinking, he reached out and stroked its length with his fingertips, down to the tight black curls at the base. Fraser’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment and he exhaled. Then he grabbed Ray’s face, holding him under the jaw with his fingertips brushing his ears, and stepped in close to kiss him. Ray’s spine turned to molasses as their bare skin was pressed together, from chest to thigh. 

“You’re shivering,” Fraser whispered, licking his lip as he pulled away.

“I’m  _ vibrating _ ,” Ray retorted, with a snort of laughter and a toothy grin. 

“Let’s get in before it gets cold.” Fraser took Ray’s hand and nodded towards the bath.

Ray climbed unceremoniously over the edge and plopped himself down, hunching into the water to get as much of himself covered as possible. Fraser followed with significantly more grace and care, and Ray was quite pleased by the eyefull he got as it happened. He realized, with a blush creeping into his ears, that he really wanted to suck Fraser off— an entirely foreign sensation. He had, on a handful of occasions, fantasized about a guy getting down on his knees in front of him, but he had never pictured  _ himself _ doing it. Fraser seemed to spark a lot of wild thoughts, Ray conceded, filing away a statement of intent on the subject. 

With both of them in the tub, the water was high enough to meet their chests, and Ray felt warmer than he had in days. He sat, naked, face to face with his equally naked best friend, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped around his chest, and grinned.

“Y’know, you’re gonna have to walk me through this, Fraze. I haven’t exactly done this before.”

Fraser’s brows knit slightly, and he took on a didactic tone. “While I’m aware that many American men are somewhat derelict in their hygiene, I’m  _ also  _ aware that you aren’t one of them. You don’t need to lie about your level of bathing experience to get me to wash your back, Ray.”

Unsuccessfully suppressing a smile, Ray made a fist halfway under the water and squeezed, squirting Fraser in the face with water. Fraser snorted and rubbed his face off on his arm. 

“I know how to bathe, thank you. It’s the other stuff I’m a little hazy on.” He had gotten a lot better at reading Fraser Sarcasm over the past year or so, but he still usually played along, after giving him a smack on the arm or something. Fraser always seemed tickled.

“You want me to wash your back anyway?” He reached out of the bathtub and grabbed soap and a brush.

Ray hesitated for a moment. Somehow, Fraser scrubbing him down seemed even more intimate than fucking him. He had showered with Stella occasionally, but only for the purposes of sex in said shower. One time they had tried to do the sexy-bubble-bath-and-rosepetals nonsense, but it had been in their tiny apartment bathtub, and they had both just ended up bruised. He couldn’t recall another time he actually got  _ in _ a bath with someone, for the purposes of cleaning— if he had ever. 

But on the other hand, it was Fraser. And things that were weird with other people just weren’t really weird with him. Or they were, but, for whatever reason it was kind of okay that it was weird. 

He shifted his feet beneath him and turned his back to Fraser. 

“I usually do th’hair first,” he muttered, feeling like his whole body was blushing. “So I’m not getting soap in my hair from the water.” It was a little vain, but his hair was already corn husk dry from the days of howling cold. No need to become a human brillo pad. “Wanna hand me the shampoo?” 

Fraser leaned in and kissed the back of his neck. 

“Tilt your head back.” 

Trying not to think too hard about any of what was going on, Ray did as he was told. Fraser used a clean mug he had brought over to the bath to rinse his hair, one hand resting softly on his forehead to shield his eyes from the water. Ray made a concerted effort not to feel self-conscious about this— Fraser had  _ offered _ , and the plan was still to have sex soon, and they  _ did _ deserve a real bath after a week of hypothermia-inducing wilderness cleaning from buckets of ice water.

And also, the way Fraser’s hands felt on his body… 

He leaned back slightly, and just let himself enjoy being touched.

Fraser rubbed a palmful of shampoo through his hair, pressing the pads of his fingers into his scalp. Ray sighed involuntarily, his shoulders untensing and his eyes closing. He wasn’t usually all that good at relaxing, and on paper, relaxing  _ naked, with someone’s hands all over his head _ sounded like a fucking nightmare. But in practice, he was half ready to forget the sex for tonight and just lean back and fall asleep. Fraser was  _ good at this _ . 

Nonetheless, he managed to summon a half-dozen half-baked words.

“So’s this like… something you do?”

A pause, Fraser’s hands still moving. He had transitioned from shampooing to straight-up scalp massage at some point, and Ray thought he might melt into the bathwater.

“I think I might require some further context.”

This time he wasn’t pulling anyone’s leg. Ray cleared his throat and tried for greater specificity. “Like. Take people back to the consulate and give’m a bath.” 

Fraser twitched slightly, not with annoyance, but unvoiced laughter.

“No, Ray.” He lowered his hands into the water and wrapped his arms around Ray’s middle. “I do not.” He squeezed a little tighter and then let go. “Lean back?”

Ray agreed and let himself be rinsed once more. 

“So, I’m… uh,” he sputtered, buffeted by a bizarre mixture of emotions that seemed to be preventing him from using most of his vocabulary. He was churningly nervous, disconcertingly soothed, and magnificently aroused. Ray hardly considered himself a wordsmith; right now he wasn’t sure he spoke English. 

“You know already I’m new to this whole…” He swallowed. “Men thing. Which is fine. I just’m wondering. IIs there like a…” Fraser’s hands continued moving over him as he groped for words. He had finished rinsing his hair and was now rubbing soapy lather onto his back, digging into the space between his shoulder blades as he went. “Some kind of road map?” He groaned involuntarily as Fraser tucked into the muscle on either side of his spine, just above his pelvis. 

Fraser softly kissed the top of his shoulder, his hands slowing for a moment. 

Ray could feel Fraser breathe against his skin as he searched for an answer.

“I think rather than relying on a map that someone else has drawn,” he posited, “we should mark our own trail in whatever way feels right to us.” He leaned back, and scooped water up to rinse Ray’s back. “I told you already that the pace was yours to set.”

Ray turned his head around. “Wait.” He squinted. “Wait, that’s what that was about!? Sex?”

Fraser blinked, and then looked down into the water. “Well,” he sputtered, “I. The general sense of—” He squinted back. “That wasn’t clear?”

“No it was  _ not _ the hell clear, Fraze, I thought you were literally talking about sledding.” He bopped his partner on the arm with the back of his hand. “I’ve been waiting for you to make a move since we left Frobisher and all them.” 

Fraser’s eyebrows moved upwards in surprise. “Well. That explains a few things. I thought I was leaving things open for you to, uh, take the first step into this new phase of our—” 

Ray scratched beneath his earlobe, squinting at Fraser. “Turn around and let me do you.” 

Fraser’s eyes opened very wide, but then he began nodding rapidly, his mouth slightly open. 

“Not—” Ray crunched his eyes shut, suddenly feeling the blush spreading again, “Not like— I mean your  _ hair n’ shit _ , and— fuck, Fraser, I’m not… really— uh— ready to—” 

Fraser’s nodding grew even more rapid. “Understood,” he smiled, weakly, “My misinterpretation.” He turned around, his own ears and neck flushed. 

Ray grabbed the shampoo and the mug, and attempted to retrace Fraser’s steps. He seemed to succeed instead in partially drowning Fraser, which the mountie took with his characteristic stoicism. “Sorry,” he muttered, pulling Fraser back slightly by his chest so he wouldn’t douse his eyeballs next time. He had better luck the second mugful. And without Fraser’s gaze on him, Ray’s words started to return. 

“So… uh. Is that something you… would be interested in?”

Ray watched Fraser’s adam’s apple twitch. His hands, broad and stong, were flattened to the tops of his thighs with nervous rigidity. Most notably, however: his dick was like a goddamn redwood, hard as anything and very, very red.

“I…” Fraser paused, breathing out through his nose. “I don’t want to pressure you into any one particular thing, Ray.”

Water lapped around the tops of Fraser’s arms and the bottom of his chest. He was comically still.

Ray sighed, and pulled Fraser’s head back so they could look at one another, albeit upside down

“The  _ one _ thing you don’t need to get your way about, huh?” He glared, lovingly, at his partner. “This whole ‘communication is important in a partnership’ business is a  _ dance _ , Fraser. Push and pull. I don’t want you feeling all nervy about stepping on my toes when I’m just as likely to be stepping on yours, okay?” He shrugged. “Besides, setting your own pace and all that, right? Don’t we got all the time in the world to try out whatever it is we want to try out?”

Looking at him from the wrong way up, Fraser looked surprisingly vulnerable. Ray wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into his chest, and then spread his legs out. They sat for a while like that, spooned together in the bathtub. 

Muttering, half-jokingly, into Fraser’s ear, Ray asked, “So, do you, though? Want me to, ah…” 

Fraser’s shyness melted away again, and he pulled the inside of Ray’s wrist to his lips. “Well, if we have all the time in the world, I can’t see why not.” 

“Hm.” Ray thought, semi-seriously, about what Fraser was suggesting. He had only let his mind wander vaguely in that direction, previously— his Fraser fantasies had been pretty well stuck in the oral fixation phase since the get-go— but the idea of bending Fraser over and having a go at that preeminently excellent Canadian can lit something up inside him. 

Trying to suppress his self-consciousness— the knee-jerk, whoa-now-very-funny nervous-laughter reaction— he let his mind wander over to the idea’s corollary, as well. He had reacted more than positively when Fraser had pushed him down to the bed. He liked the idea of Fraser taking control. He liked the idea of taking Fraser in his mouth. The only real barrier to thinking about letting Fraser take him another way was, honestly, fear. Shame. He cleared his throat and tried out the words— vague, but clear enough. “And, uh. Vice-versa?”

Fraser’s voice was soft and calm. “If you’d like, Ray.”

“I’m probably going to sound like a dumbass here,” he sighed, pushing Fraser off him slightly and picking the shampoo back up, “But does that actually…” He wet his lips with his tongue, and wet Fraser’s head with the shampoo. “Like, does it do anything for uh… is it enjoyable? For both parties?” 

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted it. Scrubbing aggressively, he backpedaled. “Forget it. Forget it. I don’t know why I asked that, obviously it must be or, uh, I mean, people wouldn’t.” He swallowed, looking at the wall. “Also I. I’m not totally— I do know, technically how these things work, I just—” 

“Ray—”

“I’m not a total novice, y’know, I just—”

“Ray—”

“This whole thing is just, like, a big  _ lifestyle change _ , all of it, the—”

“Ray—”

“It’s not just the sex stuff, it’s—”

“Ray—”

“Yeah, what?”

“There is an awful lot of shampoo in my eyes right now and it would be preferable if you let go of my head for a moment.”

“Oh, jeez, Fraze, I’m sorry,” Ray sputtered, releasing Fraser from his grip, “You should have said something.”

Fraser dunked his head under the water and came up free of suds, turning himself around as he surfaced. He blinked, wiping at the corners of his eyes. He sniffed once, wiggling his nose a little. “I think maybe we should finish getting clean and maybe  _ then _ talk about the mechanics of…” He paused for a moment. “Congress between men.”

“Please don’t call it that,” Ray objected, one eye squinting shut. “I don’t really want to picture Newt Gingrich while I’m touching your junk.” 

“I…” Fraser’s mouth opened much wider on the left than the right, and his eyebrows fell to his eyes. He closed his mouth abruptly and nodded. “I won’t call it that.”

Ray grimaced. “I really wish I hadn’t brought up Newt Gingrich.”

“Bit of a mood killer,” Fraser agreed, with a slight nod. 

They looked at each other across the no-longer steaming bathwater. 

Ray cleared his throat and tried to reset the tone of the conversation as Fraser finished his washing. “I do want to touch your junk, though.”

Fraser’s mouth flattened, a smile suppressed. “I’ve never really understood that euphemism. Seems rather dismissive, considering its usual intent.”

A smirk crept up Ray’s face and he leaned back against the side of the bathtub. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at Fraser. “You need me to be a little more  _ clear and communicative _ ?” 

Soap suds on his chest and shoulders, Fraser flashed Ray a winning smile. “Please do.”

It had kind of been a bluff, but now he had to go through with it. Ray tried to affect as much cool as he could, tilting his chin up and half-lidding his eyes. “I want to suck your dick.” 

As soon as the words came out, the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily and he felt heat rush down the back of his neck. He contemplated sinking down under the surface of the water and never coming back up. 

Fraser stopped scrubbing, looked at Ray’s mouth for a microsecond, and then looked down at the surface of the water. Possibly, Ray contemplated, considering the same watery fate. 

When he spoke, his voice was low and quiet, all pretense and politeness put aside. “I would like that, very much, if you would allow me to return the favor.”

Trying to play it cool, Ray joked, “Well, I’ll drown if we do it in here, so let’s wrap this up and get our asses over to bed, then.”

“An excellent plan,” Fraser nodded, scrubbing dutifully. While he finished, Ray reached out under the water and ran the tips of his fingers down Fraser’s stomach. That the hard planes of a man’s body could be so incredibly enticing was a bit of a revelation; the traitor part of his brain that had long whispered orders to share other men’s cigarettes or let his hand linger a little too long on another man’s arm had never been brave enough to tell him  _ why _ he might want to do those things. Now it all seemed so obvious. 

He took Fraser’s cock in his hand and tested stroking it. He didn’t know what Fraser liked, but he did know what  _ he  _ liked, and that was a place to start. Fraser’s eyes blinked shut and he breathed out a little roughly. Ray continued very slowly bringing the circle of his fingers up to the head and then down to the base as Fraser finished washing up. He could see the muscles in Fraser’s stomach clenching as he attempted to maintain enough concentration to get clean.

With a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl, Fraser dunked himself mostly under the water. He rubbed himself off, rinsing the soap from his body, and then he lunged forward. Splashing the floor, he pressed Ray into the edge of the bathtub and kissed him with crushing fervor. His hands were on Ray’s hips and his erection was pressed up against his thigh as his lips and tongue and teeth met Ray’s in kind. Ray leaned back and let Fraser slide his tongue into his mouth, greedily running one hand along his back and tangling the fingers of the other in his hair. Fraser relinquished his grip on Ray’s right hip, moving down to the space below his thigh, pulling his leg up slightly to better wedge himself between his knees. Ray weighed practically nothing in the water, and in a moment he was pressed, back to the bathtub’s edge, legs around Fraser’s hips, Fraser’s cock thrust up against his own. 

Ray let himself be swept up, even though nearly every part of this was shockingly new. Fraser’s grip, half on his hip and half on his thigh, was bruising-tight, and his mouth was so hot, and the sensation of their twinned erections sliding together under the water was so foreign and yet so  _ satisfying _ . Fraser’s fervor was jarring, initially; this was the same man who couldn’t make eye contact when people talked about their romantic liaisons? The same man who thought “take things at your own pace” was bald-faced flirting? Awkward, polite Fraser was pinning him down, his hand migrating now to his ass, practically fucking his mouth with his tongue?

The moment of bewilderment passed as quickly as it arrived; he thought about how Fraser could pivot instantaneously from investigation to pursuit, how fast the man’s mind turned when putting clues together, and how decisively he moved any time action needed to be taken.  _ He got the go ahead _ , Ray drowsed, crushing his hips up against Fraser’s,  _ so now he can go all ‘man of action.’  _

Nonetheless, it was a little bit of a surprise when Fraser took Ray’s lower lip between his teeth; Ray gasped loudly and then the hand that had been on his hip was on his jaw, Fraser’s thumb rubbing his earlobe. Fraser kissed him again, with an intensity somehow even greater than before, all teeth and heat and an exchange of breath, and then he cupped Ray’s face with both his hands and very, very softly kissed his lower lip where he had bitten it. He pulled away and stared at Ray without blinking. 

Ray blinked for both of them, nervously, like he was trying to make sure what he was seeing was real. Between one blink and the next, Fraser’s composure melted away completely. He bit the inside of his cheek, eyebrows in such a deep furrow he almost looked angry. 

“I…” He took his hands off Ray’s face and sat back. He licked his lower lip.

“What?” Ray’s throat went dry. “Am I doing something wrong?”

Fraser shook his head, his expression drifting to confusion, then back to distress. “No, Ray, you’re…” He smiled so weakly it might as well have been a muscle spasm. “I just… that was too much, wasn’t it?” 

The vague sensation of cold nausea that had gripped Ray’s chest washed away.

“It was fan-fucking-tastic,” he reassured him, the words barely coming out in a coherent order. He raised one eyebrow and squinted. “Have I  _ ever _ , in the entire time we’ve known each other, just let you do something annoying or stupid without  _ telling _ you it’s annoying or stupid?”

“No,” Fraser admitted. He raised his eyebrows. “You’re generally quite vocal about what you perceive as mistakes on my part.”

Ray let him sit with that a moment. Fraser continued to look concerned, as if he were now waiting for this criticism to arrive.

“Extrapolate, Fraser.” Ray rolled his eyes. “You think I’m gonna pick  _ now _ to clam up?”

Fraser looked at him just below his eyes, off slightly to the left. His mouth was pressed flat. “Understood,” he finally answered. “Are you warm enough?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Excellent.” Fraser stood up, briefly putting Ray in perfect parallel view of his dick. Ray absentmindedly reached towards it, but by the time he was close, Fraser was already out of the bath. Throwing a towel around his neck, Fraser offered his hand and Ray took it. They dried off quickly, Fraser drained the tub, and Ray hung the towels up. They glanced at each other and grinned, and then they both had to look away.

“I’m getting under the covers before the hypothermia comes back,” Ray warned, dashing over to the bed. He untucked the comforter and slid under the freezing sheets.

Fraser followed a pace behind, laughing as Ray yelped at the cold. 

“I could have told you it wouldn’t be that warm,” Fraser admonished.

“Then get in here and warm me up, you asshole,” Ray spat, just his face out of the blankets.

Fraser stood, entirely nude, with his hand on his hip and his head tilted slightly. “Well, not if you’re going to call me names,” he warned, that infinitesimally tiny glint of mischief back in his eye.

“Fine, bed’s mine then.” Ray’s shrug was a giant sighing of bedclothes; he was a quilt ghost. 

“Ah, well,” Fraser sighed, apparently acquiescing. “We can wait until the next time the mood strikes, then.” 

Ray glared at him. Occasionally, Fraser displayed a level of self-awareness quite at odds with his usual naivete. It was hard to read this comment as anything other than an indictment of their fumbling, tied off with a threat that perhaps they were both too awkward for lighting to strike like this again. The placid smile on Fraser’s beautiful face made it very clear that he was enjoying himself just a little too much. 

“That’s fine,” Ray bluffed. “I’ll just jack it while you stand there in the cold.”

A twitch of the corner of Fraser’s mouth started a cascade through his placidity that resulted in him scrambling under the covers and gathering Ray into his arms. 

They lay side by side, legs twining, Fraser’s arms around Ray’s shoulders, nose-to-nose.

Ray looked down, eyes on Fraser’s shoulder instead of returning his gaze. 

“So, uh…” Ray laughed, once, quiet and breathy. “We’re, uh.” He made eye contact for a split second. “This is kinda peculiar, isn’t it? You n’ me. Like this.”

Fraser loosened his grip slightly. “Ray, if you don’t want—”

Ray bonked his forehead against Fraser’s. “I  _ do  _ want. Doesn’t mean it’s not a little queer, y’know?” He regretted his word choice immediately, but continued anyway. “It’s not ‘totally uncomfortable’ or ‘all in,’ it’s…” He sighed. “Haven’t you ever been a little nervous about something you’re looking forward to?”

“Since I decided to ask you to come with me,” Fraser smiled, sheepish and canine in equal measure. 

“Okay then,” Ray concurred, “So we’re on the same page.” He grasped both their erections in hand, pressing his body into Fraser’s, rubbing the length of his dick along his. Fraser tensed, breathing out in a heavy huff. “Like this? This is very new.” He stroked them both, slowly, and kissed Fraser’s neck. “But two years ago I didn’t even  _ know _ any Canadians,” he murmured, lips on Fraser’s skin, “Forget want to get intimate with a Mountie, so,” he sucked where Fraser’s jaw met his neck, and felt him twitch in his slowly moving hand. “So new can be good, right?”

Fraser ran his fingers through the back of Ray’s still-damp hair. It was going to dry very strangely. 

“Sometimes… I can find new a little difficult,” Fraser admitted, whispering into Ray’s neck. 

Ray laughed, quietly, despite himself. “Really? You?” 

“I will admit embracing novelty isn’t my strongest trait,” Fraser rebutted, his fingers tight in Ray’s hair, grinding absentmindedly against Ray’s hand and cock, “But you can be rather stubborn yourself, Ray.”

“Yeah, well, you need that.” Ray kissed the front of his neck, just below his chin. “You need a kick in the ass sometimes.” 

They pulled back and looked each other in the eye, this time without immediately glancing off to the side or into the darkness of the blankets. Fraser blinked very softly, his dark eyelashes coming together, his eyes intense and amorous. 

He stroked the hair back from Ray’s temple, over his ear.

“Ray, I…”

Ray put two fingers over Fraser’s lips. “Nope, no, none of that. You can get as mushy as you want in like, I dunno, ten minutes to an hour, depending on whether I have any natural talent at, uh,” he cleared his throat. 

“Fellatio?” 

“Thank you, Fraser, really needed that,” Ray groaned, “But if you say anything like what I think you were maybe about to say now, I’m just gonna have to vamoose myself right out of this cut-rate sugar shack and stand in the cold until my cheeks stop glowing, so.” He glared, already blushing. “So let’s cut to the chase, okay?” 

Fraser nodded, and then rolled himself on top of Ray. “I assume you’d like to stay under the covers as best you can?”

“Yeah, but…” Ray looked up at Fraser. The sensation of his thighs around his hips, the weight of him on his middle, his hands in the pillow around his ears— Ray’s cock twitched involuntarily. “If you don’t mind, I’m sort of thinking maybe I should go first, actually. Because, uh…” He tried to grin, but suspected it came out more like a scowl. “I don’t know how much use I’m going to be once, uh…” He tried smiling again, and felt he managed it better this time. “So, uh, wanna flip over?” 

“Certainly.” Fraser sat up and removed himself from Ray’s lap, and then laid back, hands politely folded on his chest. Side by side, he turned and smiled at him. 

Ray got up on his knees, still clutching the blankets to his sides, and assessed the situation. He figured the general mechanism— situating yourself between another party’s legs in such a way that they had a real good time and you ended up with a bit of a mess on your face— wasn’t all that different between men and women, and he had some minor level of confidence in his practices with girls. He gestured to Fraser in an upward direction. “Sit up a little bit.”

Fraser shifted himself up on the pillows, which left his shoulders and torso exposed to the open air.

“You gonna get cold?” Ray questioned, kneeling between Fraser’s legs. He peered out at Fraser from beneath the blankets.

“I’ll be fine,” Fraser reassured him. 

Ray leaned down, bringing his face within inches of Fraser’s dick. 

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” he reiterated, his eyes darting between Fraser’s face and his erection. “But I’m hoping enthusiasm counts.” 

Fraser licked his lip, smiling with his eyes. “I think it does.”

Ray wrapped his fingers around the base of Fraser’s cock, watching his face as he gave it a tentative stroke. He tried to summon the memories of being on the receiving end of such attentions, but couldn’t quite conjure the details. He had always kind of lost himself in the moment. Without specifics to guide him, he leaned in and licked the shaft above his hand, and then slid his lips over the head. 

Immediately he could feel his heartbeat in his chest, up through the veins in his neck. The sensation of having warm flesh against his tongue, stiff but supple, was bizarre. And… kind of nice, actually. Mouth still, he ran his tongue against the ridge of Fraser’s head, watching him for a reaction. His eyes closed, and Ray could feel him tense his hips. 

All of this, Ray discovered, was going right to his dick. 

Stella had always been pretty neutral on giving head, Ray contemplated, absentmindedly licking around his own lips to reduce friction, but he had fucked a couple of girls who really seemed to get off on it.  _ Guess I’m one of those girls _ , he quipped to himself, stroking Fraser as he worked his mouth further down his length. 

Fraser wasn’t exactly  _ small _ , so at a certain angle, Ray found himself unable to breathe successfully. He shifted slightly, the covers falling off his shoulders. The feeling of Fraser’s cock hitting his soft palate, brushing past his teeth, pressed up against his tongue, was sending him places. It was undeniably hot, but also a little claustrophobic— and, he realized, sliding his lips and tongue down to meet his fingers, then back up, a little tiring. His jaw was going to feel kind of funny after this. 

But he wasn’t gagging, which had been his major source of nervousness with regards to cock sucking, and he also wasn’t struck useless with embarrassment. He started getting into a comfortable rhythm, half with his hand and half with his mouth, and Fraser breathed out audibly, a little ragged. Ray wondered if it was bad form to touch his own dick. He glanced up at Fraser’s face as he ran his tongue in soft circles along the underside of his cock. His eyes were closed, his lips parted slightly, and his eyebrows kept hitching together. Ray patted himself on the back, metaphorically, feeling pretty pleased with the look he was making the usually unflappable Fraser make. 

Like he knew he was being watched, Fraser’s eyes fluttered open. Immediately his hand went to his mouth and he turned his head away slightly. Ray kept his eyes fixed squarely on his face, and brought his mouth down as far as he could, slowly, adjusting to the sensation of Fraser’s cock against the back of his throat. He migrated his hand down to cup Fraser’s balls, giving them a gentle little squeeze. Fraser’s eyes darted back to Ray’s and he made a muffled noise from under his hand. Feeling a little panicky, Ray swallowed along Fraser’s dick, and then slowly resumed bobbing his head, keeping as much suction as he could. 

Fraser wrapped his fingers in Ray’s hair, maybe a little tighter than was polite. Ray grunted—  _ alright, maybe it was more of a moan _ — his mouth still very full. He renewed his ministrations with doubled enthusiasm, the pressure of Fraser’s hand on his head and the quiet noises Fraser was making causing his own cock to respond with desperate excitement. 

He adjusted his position slightly, not breaking contact, so one of his hands was on Fraser’s hip, and the other was. Well. Free for his own uses. He plunged his head down, his lips sliding hot across Fraser’s length, and started lightly stroking himself with his newly unencumbered hand. Fraser’s grip on his head tightened slightly, and he muttered something totally incoherent. 

Ray slowly worked his tongue back up Fraser’s shaft until he was kneeling, mouth slightly open, tongue pressed into the underside of Fraser’s head, and glanced back up at him. 

Fraser looked at him, and then squeezed his eyes shut and whispered, “God, Ray…” 

Despite the growing jaw discomfort, Ray found himself gasping and sputtering muffled obscenities into Fraser’s skin as he continued. He had often gotten excited going down on girls, but it had always seemed kind of  _ unmanly _ to make a show of it. He knew Fraser couldn’t give half a fuck about ‘manliness,’ so he let himself just  _ be  _ excited. Besides, Fraser seemed to be coming unraveled, and it was hard not to react to that. 

“Ray, I,” Fraser gasped, “Oh lord, I— that’s—” He swallowed. “I think— there’s a possi—oh—”

A sudden, burning desire to be incredibly unkind suffused Ray’s entire being.

He softly removed his mouth from Fraser’s penis, and grinned. “I’m not sure I understand. What happened to clear communication?” 

Fraser’s whole face screwed up in distress for a moment, and then he grinned as well, flushed and aroused and confused in equal parts. “Jesus christ, Ray, you are—”

“I’m what?” Ray kissed the tip of Fraser’s dick. 

“...incorrigible,” Fraser half-laughed, half-wheezed. 

Ray plunged his mouth back over his erection, taking Fraser in as deeply as he could. 

Fraser came entirely undone, gasping and pulling Ray’s hair as he thrust into his mouth. He must have said Ray’s name fifty times as he fucked his lips and tongue to completion. The noise he made as he came, halfway between a moan and a yelp, would have been almost enough to tip Ray over the edge as well, if he hadn’t suddenly been drowning.

He tried to swallow, but he had been rather surprised by the suddenness of it all, and really hadn’t considered what exactly might happen if he  _ couldn’t _ swallow. 

He unconsciously stuck his hand out and coughed slightly, feeling a little like some of it had gone up his nose or something. His eyes watered slightly. As he released Fraser’s still-stiff member from his mouth, semen plopped onto his hand. 

He snorted with laughter. 

He covered his face with his other hand, still wheezing. “Oh god, Fraze, I’m so sorry—” 

Suddenly sewn back up, Fraser was all concern and apologies. He cupped Ray’s face in his hands. “No, no, Ray,  _ I’m _ sorry, I—” He kissed Ray’s forehead. “You were doing such an admirable job that I sort of forgot—” He paused, looking deeply repentant. “Are you okay?”

Ray was still sort of chortling, mostly with embarrassment. He grinned at Fraser. “I’m fine, Fraze, it’s just jizz.” He shrugged, trying to look a little cool and cavalier. He wondered if one could pull that off with cum on their face, and wiped at his chin with the heel of his clean hand. “I won’t be so surprised next time.”

Fraser got out of the bed and got a hand towel. As he mopped them both up, still muttering apologies, Ray suddenly realized he was using an  _ actual towel _ for clean up. 

“What the hell,” he sputtered, gesturing at the towel, “Do we not have any tissues? We gonna to leave this for housekeeping?”

“I’ll wash it before we leave,” Fraser reassured him. “I don’t think there really  _ is _ housekeeping here, Ray.” 

They huddled together under the covers, Ray semi-purposefully pressing his erection into Fraser’s leg. 

“I really hope I haven’t soured you on this whole experience,” Fraser apologized, again, stroking the hair off Ray’s forehead. 

In response, Ray  _ very _ purposefully pressed his erection harder into Fraser’s leg. “Does it seem like that’s how I’m feeling?” 

“I just feel I should have had a little more restraint,” Fraser continued to apologize.

Ray started to speak and then pinched his lower lip between his teeth. “Would it be weird if I kissed you?”

“Why would that be weird, Ray?”

Ray slowly pointed to his mouth, eyes a little wide. “‘Cause you just, uh…” 

“Oh. Oh!” Fraser shook his head. “No, not at all.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Fraser’s, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and sliding his tongue along it. 

Very close to his mouth, lips still brushing, Ray whispered, “You? Minus restraint? Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Fraser kissed him back, both his hands resting gently on the back of Ray’s neck. He rolled him onto his back and kissed him again. He knelt over Ray, his hands migrating to his hips. 

“Would you still like me to reciprocate?” 

Ray licked his lips, looking up into Fraser’s eyes, soft as cornflower and sharp as steel. 

“Have you ever said anything  _ dirty _ , Fraser?” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Like, instead of ‘sexual congress,’ just… ‘fucking.’”

“I don’t think the use of obscenity is necessary—” 

“Okay, bad example.” Ray reached up and touched Fraser’s lips with the pad of his thumb. It was amazing how easy all this intimacy stuff was now that he had had a mouthful of Fraser’s dong. “You’re offering to suck my dick, right?”

Fraser looked a little frustrated, like he was talking to someone with short term memory loss. “As previously established, yes.”

“So have you ever said to someone, ‘hey, I wanna suck you off?’”

“Not in so many words, no.” Fraser furrowed his brows. “Would you… like me to say something like that?”

Ray shook his head. “Nah. Just curious.” He sat up a little, adjusting himself under the covers. “Where do you want me?”

“That’s a bit of a loaded question, Ray.” One side of Fraser’s mouth crept up. “If you sit up more, are you going to be cold?”

“I’m good on the cold at this point,” Ray answered, smiling, a little blinky. He sat up farther and Fraser positioned himself between his legs. 

He cupped the top side of Ray’s dick in his fingers, and then, eyelashes fluttering closed, licked up the underside. At the top, he tilted his head to the side and ran his tongue in a stiff circle just below the ridge of Ray’s head. Then, still sideways, he suctioned his mouth to the shaft, pressing Ray’s erection into his lips and tongue with his hand.

All he was doing was teasing— he hadn’t even taken his cock in his mouth yet— and Ray was already feeling like he could come at any moment. The friction of Fraser’s tongue on his skin— hot and wet and with neither pressure nor surface area coverage yet sufficient for orgasm, was making his hips move involuntarily.

He watched Fraser from half-lidded eyes, his breathing already ragged. Fraser moved with deliberate slowness, eyes down or closed, licking and kissing and softly sucking on the shaft. Ray stroked the top of Fraser’s head, from his hairline back, with his thumb and fingers. Fraser smiled, and glanced up at him with those horizon eyes. 

“God you’re hot,” Ray blurted. He grinned with sudden onset shyness. Fraser stopped for just a split second, broke off eye contact, and went back to the task at hand, his ears a little pink.

Fraser, tongue broad, mouth open, slowly licked from Ray’s balls up to the tip of his cock. He squeezed his hand a little tighter and Ray gasped as he darted his tongue across the slit, then licked his lips and pressed his mouth down over the head. The heat and wetness of his mouth, coupled with the firmness of his hand, caused Ray to buck slightly. Fraser looked up at him, mouth full. 

“Fuck, Fraze,” Ray gasped, already feeling himself on the border of coming.  _ Next time, maybe don’t tug yourself off while you’re sucking him, dumbass _ , he thought, as a stream of incoherent words tumbled out of his mouth. “I’m not gonna…” 

Fraser slid his head down, eyes still on Ray.

“Oh god, fuck, I— Fraze, I’m—”

Just holding his cock in his mouth was causing Ray to lose his goddamn mind. His hand was suddenly on Fraser’s shoulder, and he was pressing himself harder into his mouth, trying to get leverage, trying to feel more of that heat and that friction and the soft, wet, suck of his tongue and cheeks and lips. 

Fraser took all this in stride, and took up a slack, sedate pace that gave Ray space to hold on for just a little bit longer. 

But god, his mouth was so hot, and his face was so beautiful, and he looked so unbelievably fantastic with his lips stretched around Ray’s cock. 

“Fraser, you’re just…” Ray bit his lip, his thighs starting to tense and shake. “I just— fucking— you— and— fuck, fuck—” 

Abandoning all pretense and shame, Ray thrust into Fraser’s mouth, and Fraser’s eyes fluttered shut. He made a noise like a muffled moan along Ray’s length as Ray fucked him, sliding in and out of those willing lips. And then, heat spread through Ray’s body, electricity running up his spine from his balls, and he could feel himself tensing and then it was all beautiful white static as he came, still thrusting into his partner’s mouth, his cock twitching and surging. Fraser continued sliding his lips and tongue up and down his length, eyes closed, never breaking contact even as Ray filled his mouth with cum. 

When he came up for air, he licked his lips, eyes almost fierce on Ray’s face. He grabbed Ray around the shoulders and pulled him under the covers, kissing his neck and ears and jaw. Ray was like jelly in his hands, and every kiss made his dick briefly, incorrectly think,  _ hey _ ,  _ maybe we could keep this going!  _

Pulling Ray tight to his body, arms around him, side by side, Fraser touched the tip of his nose to Ray’s.

Ray touched their lips together. He was a little too rubbery for anything other than that.

He sighed, cuddling into Fraser. Really, seriously cuddling. He should’ve been embarrassed or something, but instead, he just let himself rest on Fraser’s chest. He nudged Fraser onto his back and draped one arm over his belly, his shoulder under Fraser’s arm, his head positioned where he could hear his heartbeat.

“So…” He muttered, breaking the crackling wood-stove-silence of the cabin. “That was kind of unbelievably hot.” 

“Only kind of?” Fraser smiled softly, with drowsy, affectionate mischief.

“ _ Completely, _ skull-shatteringly unbelievably hot,” Ray corrected himself. “I just didn’t want to get too corny too fast, y’know?” 

They both laughed, more a wheezing chuckle than anything else.

“So are we…” Ray swallowed, looking past Fraser’s chest to the far wall of the shack. “What’s the word for this, y’know?”

“Pillow talk,” Fraser offered instantly, either completely misinterpreting the question or just being a nuisance. 

“Thank you, Rock Hudson,” Ray sighed, rolling his eyes. “I mean you n’ me. What are  _ we _ called?” He shrugged into Fraser’s shoulder. “If I have to introduce you at a party, do I say, ‘this is my boyfriend?’” He grimaced. It sounded so juvenile.

Fraser was quiet for a moment, and then he leaned in and silently kissed the top of Ray’s head. “If that’s what you’d like, Ray.” 

There was a pause, and the pause sounded like  _ ‘but.’ _

“But I wonder if maybe it would make the most sense to just keep thinking of ourselves as ‘partners.’” He looked at Ray over his cheekbones. “I feel that… there’s a greater weight to that word than ‘boyfriends,’ or… ‘lovers,’ or ‘significant others.’” His voice faltered slightly. “And I… would like to think that maybe our relationship has that kind of weight.”

Ray’s words caught in his throat. He had told Fraser he ‘loved him like a brother’ when they barely had known each other and he barely could have meant it; now that he was starting to think he was really, seriously in love with him, he couldn’t spit it out. He squeezed him a little tighter, and hoped he’d understand.

“And besides…” Fraser cleared his throat. “Are you… actually comfortable with the idea of being… out?”

Ray had really only been thinking about nomenclature, not social consequences. 

He tried to think of a response that didn’t make him feel like a coward, but he didn’t have one. Telling some random Canadian stranger they were a couple seemed like oversharing, and a great way to end up on the wrong end of some homophobic asshole’s crossbow or musket or whatever the hell mountain folk used to scare away moose. Telling one of their friends— letting it be known to Frannie or the other cops or hell, telling  _ Stella _ , or god forbid, telling  _ his parents _ — felt like a heroic undertaking. 

But as he so often did, Fraser knew what he was feeling before he was able to fully articulate it.

“I’m not suggesting it’s a problem if you aren’t ready for that, Ray.” He touched his face, very lightly, with the backs of his fingers. “I assumed there would be an adjustment period. As you said— this is all new to you.” Fraser smiled knowingly, without pity. “I only bring it up because ‘partner’ also carries plausible deniability— you and I can know what it really means, but… other people can be left wondering if we’re in business together.” 

Ray raised his eyebrows as roguishly as he could. “Sexy business.”

“We run a small shipping firm together,” Fraser smiled. And then he grinned. “In the nude.”

“The work is  _ hard _ at our  _ firm _ , but we try not to  _ cock it up _ too bad,” Ray snorted in response.

Still grinning, Fraser admonished, “No need to be obscene, Ray.” His face twitched, and barely keeping it together, he managed to chuckle, “But we do really know how to handle our packages.” His hand went to his mouth, and he stilled himself slightly. His expression was slightly flattened, but he still looked a hell of a lot like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“Holy shit,” Ray exclaimed, rolling on top of Fraser with a gleeful expression. He grabbed Fraser’s cheeks. “You just made a dirty joke. Like a  _ real _ dirty joke. Not like a weird Canadian dirty joke only you think is dirty.” He kissed the underside of Fraser’s chin. “Or, for that matter, only you think is funny.”

Fraser’s eyes darted away and he flattened his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ray. I just think that in this scenario, we wouldn’t want to go into business if we weren’t proficient workers.” 

Slowly shaking his head, Ray bored a glare of amusement into the bridge of Fraser’s nose. “This is a new side of you, Fraze. I was kinda worried we’d be holding hands in the company of a chaperone for a year, and here we are, all cozied up like two naked enchiladas, laughing about our dicks.” He laid himself down on Fraser’s chest, leaning his head on his crossed arms.

Their eyes met, and something that he had known, subconsciously, clicked into focus in Ray’s mind. It wasn’t just a new side— it was a secret side. Ray felt like Fraser had no fears when it came to normal kinds of vulnerability; he didn’t care if people thought he was weird, or wrong, or less than masculine, or weak. But it scared the shit out of him that people might see him as human. That he had thoughts and desires that weren’t pure and selfless. And he had been letting Ray see more of the Fraser beneath the uniform little by little over the past year, but tonight they had opened a gate that couldn’t be closed again.

He wondered how many people had ever gotten to know the Fraser he was seeing now.

Ray untucked one arm and brushed stray hair from Fraser’s forehead.

“You wanna go get some dinner somewhere? Introduce ourselves to some strangers as ‘partners?’”

“You’re assuming there’s a restaurant anywhere in a town of this size.”

“There’s gotta at least be a bar, Fraser.”

“Not one that serves food.”

“Well, you Canadians are all about hospitality, right? Let’s just knock on some doors until someone feeds us.” 

Fraser looked at Ray with lace-edged wonder, his expression so delicate it barely registered. And then he placed his hand, steady and warm, on the back of Ray’s head, where his hair, less than perfectly trimmed, got short and fuzzy before meeting his neck. And he pulled him in for a kiss, the press of their lips together fond and soft and breathy. 

He blinked, slowly, his eyes still on Ray’s face, his hand still on the back of his neck.

A smile spread, first through his eyes, crinkling at the edges, and then to his mouth, his cheeks rounding as his lip curled up. 

“Sounds like an adventure, Ray.”

**Author's Note:**

> A shout out to the cool cats on the Man from UNCLE discord, who had to listen to me whining every day for a week about how I just couldn't get Ray and Fraser to fuck. Seriously, every time I wrote a line that was like, half-way to sexy times, somehow the next line I typed was about Newt Gingrich or some shit. Wrangling these two into bed turned what should have been a 5-page bit of pornographic fluff into TWENTY pages of SOUL SEARCHING and SECOND GUESSING. Come on, you two. Get it together.


End file.
